


Your Wings Already Exist (All You Have To Do Is Fly)

by IPutOnMyHeadphonesWalking



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Insecure Tony, Its just broken, PTSD, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Tony Angst, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony and Pepper break up, Tony-centric, angst angst baby, bad metaphors, dissociative disorder, implied past sexual abuse, post Age of Ultron, self hate, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 16:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19213240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IPutOnMyHeadphonesWalking/pseuds/IPutOnMyHeadphonesWalking
Summary: What if I fall?Oh but my darling,What if you fly?Or, the downward spiral that is Tony Stark’s life began when he was born, and ends horrifically.Or, or, Tony Stark just wants to fly. Always has. Should he be worried he’s on the edge of the roof now?





	Your Wings Already Exist (All You Have To Do Is Fly)

Tony Stark had never been okay. Not really. Never fully.

When he was a child, he only got ignored and pushed away by his mother, which cut him every day. Once he realized he would get no love from his hiding mother, he turned to his father for attention. He did everything he could to possibly get him to love him back. He worked so hard to be as brilliant as him. He made things that he thought would maybe help his father, or maybe prove to him that he was a worthy son. He did everything he could to please his dad (even in the dead of night when his father would slip into his room ready to demand to play their little game, because people who did that loved each other.) he wasn’t okay when his father would hit and scold him for being anything less than perfect. He definitely was not okay when he saw Jarvis’s face afterwards, full of pity that burned him.

When he got older, he was not okay when he would go to school every day, hoping to find affection there, only to be turned down and ridiculed. His younger school years were not filled with bright colors and adventures with friends. It was filled with his discovery that the outside world and society could be just as cruel and cold as his home.

He was not okay when they had the ‘talk’ at school, and he broke when he realized what happened to him. He broke beyond repair when he tried to go to his teachers and the school nurse for help, but was shut down and scolded for lying to get attention.

He was not okay as he went to MIT, hoping to get praise for being so young, only to be ridiculed and accused of only getting there with his ‘daddy’s money’. Rhodey was the only good thing he found there, the only person there to actually seem to enjoy his attention, not just trying to get answers off of him.

He grew up depressed and deprived of attention, not able to show any of his true feelings for the fear of being shut down. He grew up a broken boy, with a smile always on his face.

Then his parents died, and for a while, he felt numb. He was not sad, but he was not happy either. For the longest time he evaded emotion, but it soon caught up to him in the form of anger. He was angry at his father for doing the things he did. He was angry at his mother for letting it all happen, too caught up in her own mind. He was furious at what his mind had become, riddled with ‘disorders’ that got him farther away from perfection. He was angry at everyone who ridiculed and didn’t believe him. He would be perfectly fine watching the world that held _those_ people go up in flames. He would help it goddamn get there.

He stayed angry for a long while, but it soon dissipated, only leaving him broken and alone. He filled his time with time with work, never wavering in his quest to see the world burn.

And then Afghanistan happened. He saw much evil and hatred, but he also saw kindness and hope in the form of man named Yinsen. He saw that there were good people in the world, if only few. And one of those rare ones kept him alive.

That couldn’t be for nothing. That man with his _beautiful_ soul, saved him not once, but _twice_ , and if that’s not a fucking wake up call from the Universe, he doesn’t know what is.

When he went home, he was changed. He decided that instead of destroying the whole world, he would destroy those who ruined it. All of those who dared plague the world full of those few pure people.

And he did that with the help of Iron Man.

He felt the best he had ever been. He was finally doing something right. He was finally being the man he had dreamt of as a child. He was the hero he had always wanted to be. He covered up his weakness with iron (well, not iron, but it kind of felt meant to be when the public seemingly named him Iron Man after his father’s favorite line, ‘Stark men are made of iron, Anthony’). He had finally (dare he say it) achieved his goal of being like Captain America.

The happiness was fleeting.

Obadiah, a man he trusted, betrayed him. This man had been there for him through some of the toughest points in his life, and he really thought that Obi care for him. But when he showed his true colors, Tony couldn’t say he was surprised. He was just another person who never actually cared for him. It was kind of getting old now.

And then he began to die. He was okay with it. It was a long time coming. He had accepted death as something that would happen at age four. The inevitability of his oncoming death by Palladium poisoning bathed him in weird sense of calm and serenity.

Of course he fucking survived, meeting Nick Fury along the way, just to be told he wasn’t good enough. Every where he went throughout his life, he was told he needed to be better. He thought that would change, that he now was better with Iron Man, but no. Iron man was perfect, Tony Stark still fell short.

And through out all of this _shit_ , there was one person who was always by his side, usually with something he had to sign and a disappointed face saying he was probably late for something again. His rock, his light (cheesy, he knows, but it’s true) never wavered. She knew all of his weaknesses yet never used them against him. It felt nice to finally have someone there. There was no doubt that he loved Pepper with all of the broken pieces of his heart.

And then, Captain America. He was _alive_. This man was his childhood hero. He filled many notebooks trying to find ways to help his father find him. He had posters and action figures of this man in his room. He had _pajamas_ with his shield on them. He was _back_! Maybe his father would actually start paying atten-wait, no. His father’s dead. But Captain America’s not! He gets to fight aliens and be a superhero next to _him!_  

Meeting Steve was a whole different ordeal all together. All of his previous happiness was squashed under the glare of the man he adored. He met his childhood idol only to be immediately told what has been said to him his entire life. Steve’s words cut deep as he was disregarded as just a man in a can. ‘Big man in a suit of armor, take that off and what are you?’ Steve didn’t realize that almost his entire being was armor now, his core being the shattered little heart at the center, vulnerable to the shrapnel coming its way.

And Tony said some hurtful things back, but they weren’t directed at the man in front of him. He was really shouting at his father’s ghost that always hung over him. He was shouting at his father about how he was now seeing through his lies. Steve wasn’t a hero, you lied dad.

Apparently it’s true what they say, you shouldn’t meet your heroes.

Doing more than meet Steve, he fought alongside him against the Chitauri. Not so subtly giving leadership to the man with his ‘Call it Cap’, he gave respect to the man he had been raised to love.

And then the missile came through, and he had no hesitation. Captain America was there to be the superhero. Tony had had his fun, now it was time to actually do something helpful for once. He was done destroying, now he would save. Save his city, all the rare pure people in it, and the man who had unknowingly taken his father away from him.

He was so ready to die, welcoming it almost. The only thing he regretted leaving was Pepper, and the phone didn’t even connect.

Being in space was frightening. It wasn’t the cold, or the pressure, or the fact that he knew he would die, it was the _expanse_ of it all. He felt so small and insignificant, it was as if his father’s words had come true. He was nothing. Just a man in a can in the middle of space.

Of course he survived, and he was king of glad he did. The look on Captain’s face when Tony said something stupid was heart warming. Tony could see the raw praise and relief on his face, smiling about _him_. Steve was proud of _him_ , relieved that he was alive. He was _accepted_.

And of course, it all went to shit. More stuff happened and then, Pepper, she broke up with him. She-she said that she couldn’t deal with him. That she was getting nothing out of the relationship. That he needed her, but she did not need him. In the end, it was actually him who told her to go. Go find someone better. 

Sometime he wonders if he should of just been better.

With her gone, he reclused. The Avengers came to live with him, but he knew that they would walk away at some point too. They would soon realize that his tricks didn’t last forever, that he wasn’t as good as them. Them being there may have helped someday, but the cold sheets on the other side of the bed made it feel as through there wasn’t another person in the world.

Pepper had once said she was afraid to lose Tony, but then she faced her fears and left. 

He started drinking again, heavier than ever. He was kind of surprised he didn’t die from it (was that what he was aiming for now? Death?) He worked double time, pouring his everything into his work to chase away the dark thoughts threatening to tear him down.

And what cut him harder than ever, was the fact that no one noticed his downward spiral. No matter how much he drank or how many hours of sleep he missed, no one cared. He craved the attention that he lost with Pepper, he wanted someone to calm him down after a nightmare. He wanted her soothing voice to coax him out of a panic attack. He wanted someone to break down the door and stop him from cutting himself. Someone to rush in when he screamed at invisible people. Someone that wasn’t JARVIS. JARVIS may have been the only ‘person’ to care. His British voice tried to desperately help his father, his voice something akin to desperate. Tony knew that his AI wanted nothing more than to get someone to help him, but he was put under specific instructions not to tell a soul.

But when he was given the tesseract, he couldn’t help but try and do something great. He just wanted to be good enough for someone. People who saved the world were good, right?

But then it blew up in his face. Thor almost strangled him and it was clear that _Captain_ _America_ was angry.

Tony was a danger to this world, and it was evident.

The day after he almost destroyed an entire city and killed thousands of people, he broke. He hid in his workshop and fell apart.

It was a blur everything that happened, but thank god his workshop is soundproofed, because he remembers screaming. Not yelling, no, he was screaming at the top of his lungs, hands clenched in his hair as all he could hear was his father yelling and foreign voices and Pepper saying she was done and, somehow, the silence of space, booming in his mind. Tears fell down his cheeks as each horrible breath pushed against the reactor. He just wanted to rip it out. To let the shrapnel that was supposed to kill him pierce his heart. He began hitting himself in a feeble attempt to ground himself, but it soon turned into him relishing in the pain, allowing his strong arms to pound the bruises into his skin.

His bots stayed far away from him, and that hurt more than anything. Dum-E and the others were on the other side of the workshop, obviously confused and afraid. He wanted to demand that they come over. He wanted to run over to them and clutch to them as hard as he could, but he knew that it would only scare them further. He refused to turn into his father. 

At one point he just kept punching the wall, hoping the cracks of his breaking fingers would drown out the sound of the voices in his head, but it didn’t work. Nothing ever did.

At another point he was taking apart the Iron Man armor, telling himself that it was never real, it never was, _it was all a lie._ He smashed the fragile circuitry and pounded the helmet until it was dented beyond recognition. It took a while, but he got it.

He ran into walls, his mind a frenzy as he almost seemed to disassociate, his mind over taken with self hate as his body didn’t know what to do. He sobbed as he saw his bots roll out of view when he accidentally came too close to them. His kids were always there for him, but now they couldn’t be. 

He heard JARVIS tell them to stay away before continuing to try and calm Tony down. Just another voice added to the terrible symphony of disappointment.

He couldn’t handle the workshop anymore, so he fled, not really knowing where he was going. Thankfully he didn’t bump into any Avengers before somehow ending up on the roof.

He quietly gasped as he felt the cold air hit him. It was dark, probably the middle of the night, but thankfully, he couldn’t see any stars.

He slowly walked to the edge, a sense of calm having washed over him. He gazed at the bright colors and the moving cars as they honked. Being one of the tallest buildings, he felt cold as he looked down at the surrounding structures. The brightness of the neon signs burned his teary eyes. His breathing was still erratic, but he felt calm, as though he was doing something right.

Another tear slipped out as a voice returned in his head. He could never escape them. 

But this time it was his own voice that startled him.

_You’re almost there._

He realized what he wanted to do. What he had wanted to do for most of his life. 

From the moment he was born as Howard Stark and Maria Stark’s son, his wings began to grow.

Every hurtful remark from his father added a feather, and every time his mother ignored him, so was another. Bullies added a couple hand handfuls over the years, and all the people who betrayed him grew more. Steve just kept adding more by the day. Pepper and Ultron together added the final feather, his dark wings complete.

His wings already existed, all he had to do was fly.

He always wanted to fly, his delirious mind thought, ever since he was young. He used to have dreams about it, soaring through the clouds with his invisible wings.

The Iron Man suit was the closest thing he had gotten to it, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to be fast and free and _amazing_ without the suit.

He could now, all he would have to do is jump.

He stepped on the edge and looked down, but oddly enough, he wasn’t scared. 

He almost fell when he saw his mother and father walk up on either side of him. He knew it wasn’t them though, their faces were too kind.

It chose to ignore it though as his father’s impossibly soft voice spoke,

“It’s time Anthony.”

He looked at both of them as he pondered it. Addressing them both, he whispered, “What if I fall?”

His mother laughed softly and moved to touch the side of his cheek.

“Oh but my darling,” she said with her calm and soothing voice, her hand moving to rest on his chest, right over his reactor, “What if you fly?”

Tony fell backwards with a push that he knew wasn’t there, but felt real all the same.

His silhouette rushed past the sign on the tower, his name. His legacy.

He twisted in the air, winding grabbing wildly at his clothes. He couldn’t hear the roar, though, his ears had gone silent.

To him he fell silently, he almost laughed at his joke. He had been falling silently his entire life.

Now it was real.

He wanted to laugh as he hit the ground with a sickening thump, he was dead but his soul didn’t seem to care. A weird sense of happiness filled him as he faded, he was finally going. He would harm no more, he would no longer fall short. He would perfect in death.

He knew that the News tomorrow would say that he fell, but they would be wrong.

Tony Stark _flew_.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhh, yeah I know, angsty. Sorry for the word vomit, really no plot here.
> 
> Also just had to mention that I took two very optimistic poems and put a horribly dark turn on them. One being: Your wings already exist, all you have to do is fly. And the other being: And you ask, what if I fall, oh but my darling, what if you fly? By Erin Hanson.
> 
> Yeah, I’m proud and not sorry! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are sooo appreciated!!! Please!!!! I begeth of thou!!!!
> 
> Stay safe guys!!


End file.
